Page 97
Story: Willow (DeBeers 1)
"No one burps in this town without the rest of us hearing it," Tom said.
"Have you met Grace Nutcase and that son of hers yet?"
Melinda asked me. 'Really. Thatcher," she continued, not really waiting for my response, "I don't know why your parents don't just buy the property out from under them and get them off the grounds. With a loony like Linden wandering about, I wouldn't feel safe. And who knows what Grace might do one of these days. She could set fire to the place or something.'
"Oh, don't exaggerate, Melinda." Tom Dancer said. "I'm sure it's not quite that bad. Is it. Thatcher?"
"No," he said. "They stay to themselves most of the time." He glanced at me. "As long as they remain that way, there is no problem."
"I would still have trouble sleeping at night," Melinda insisted, "She's not a dangerous woman," I said sharply. "Far from it."
"Oh, then you have met her?" She pounced.
"Yes."
"Well, don't just sit there. Tell us about her. No one has seen her for years. What does she look like? Is it true she walks around barefoot in ripped old garments and has lost her teeth and has sand flies in her hair?"
"Absolutely not," I said finally. "She is, in fact, one of the most attractive women I've seen here. A naturally beautiful woman, with no need for cosmetic surgery or makeup," I said pointedly.
It wasn't hard to see that both she and Brownie had contributed considerabl
y to some cosmetic surgeon's pension plan.
"Really?" She and Brownie Rosewater exchanged expressions of some disappointment. "And does she speak intelligibly or babble mad things?"
She spoke to me, and she was very informative and pleasant to be with," I said a bit more calmly, realizing my face had turned crimson.
"Really," she said again, her skepticism and bitterness drooling at the corners of her mouth.
"Yes, really. I have yet to have a conversation with anyone here in Palm Beach that was as pleasant. You're missing a lot by not inviting her to your events," I added.
The women looked at each other and then laughed.
"I guess you have a lot to teach this young lady about Palm Beach, Thatcher." Melinda said.
He shifted his eyes to me and then looked at her. "She's learning. I've been here all my life, and I'm still learning." he added, and they all laughed,
"Hey, enjoy," Tom Dancer said. "I'll call you this week on that matter of the Crosby Mall."
"Right. Nice meeting you," Thatcher said to the Rosewaters.
The moment they stepped away, they all burst into hysterical laughter at something Melinda had said.
"People here are very cruel to each other, aren't they?" I asked Thatcher.
"Maybe maybe not any more than they are anywhere else. At least they don't go around shooting each other."
"Not with guns, but they do a pretty good job with words." I said.
"You came to the Montgomery's' defense rather vehemently for someone who has just met them. Willow. That surprised me almost as much as it did them. You're sure you're not getting too involved with Linden?" he asked again.
I pushed my plate away and looked out at the crowd of mega-millionaires, their jewelry competing, their designer clothes flashing before me. If they could walk about with price tags dangling, they would. I thought,
The sound of applause by the dessert bar indicated the liquid silver women had changed position again. The band got louder. Laughter whipped through the air around us. I felt my head spinning.
"What's wrong?" Thatcher asked. "I don't know. I'm suddenly not very hungry. Maybe having so much to choose from overwhelms me. I'm beginning to believe there is such a thing as being too rich."
"Not here." he said. The relative security, the enormous wealth, the magnificent weather, this city with streets that glitter and stores that look like they have a branch in heaven itself, create this sense of being above the world. Willow. It's not an altogether unpleasant high."
Table of Contents
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